


Taste

by middlemarch



Category: Mercy Street (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cake, Doctors & Physicians, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:26:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6937786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/middlemarch/pseuds/middlemarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chacun à son goût-- to each, his own taste.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste

“The chocolate almond one?” she said.

“It wasn’t too, I don’t know, marzipan-y?” he replied. His brow was actually furrowed with consideration.

Mary took a deep breath. It didn’t help as much as she had thought it might, since the room was filled with the rich scent of butter and chocolate, a fug of sugar, bright coffee and orange and ripe berries. She looked over at Jed. She’d expected him to be phoning it in, gorgeously, long legs outstretched in dark denim, his oxford open at the throat. That was supposed to be her consolation as she tried to keep him on task, but instead, he was sitting properly, elbows off the table, with all the sample plates neatly ordered in front of him. She knew he hadn’t brought his glasses with him though, so there was no chance that sexy professor Jed would come out to play. She tried another deep breath. Her yogini Allison was a liar.

“Then, the raspberry,” she tried. She thought she could feel the outline of her maxillary sinuses right beneath where she’d swiped the cream blush and hoped it was allergies and not a virus.

“But, all the seeds? And the jam might be a little messy,” he said.

“Jed! Christ, are you going to be the first recorded case of a Groomzilla? It’s a cake. We’re going to cut it with dull knife and then carefully feed each other a miniscule bite while the photographer takes a picture of the oh-so-candid moment. We’ve been here for two hours!” she exclaimed.

“I just want it to be perfect for you. You’ve already done so much of the work already and I thought this was going to be fun, like a fun date, and there’s all this cake—“ he trailed off, gesturing a little towards all the little slices on their sides, a geometry question or a Wayne Thiebaud painting.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s just, I guess I’m more tired than I thought I would be,” she said. She always forgot how exhausted she was the day after she was post-call. It had been a bad call night too, 15 admissions and two transfers to the PICU. She pulled the piece closest to her back and took another bite.

“Okay, how about this one? It’s the pound cake one that tastes like Earl Grey tea a little,” Mary offered.

“Bergamot,” he interrupted, but he put one warm hand just above her knee and squeezed. It was apology and reassurance and suggestion. Maybe they could wrap this up, then.

“Bergamot, and it’s the prettiest one with the little candied violets all over the top,” she finished.

“Sold. Why don’t I just finish up with Cake Lady over there and you just relax for a few minutes? We can swing by Red Pagoda on the way home and get you a quart of hot and sour soup. I have a bunch of charts to review, you can have your soup and watch “Royal Wedding” again and I’ll wake you up before Fred dances on the ceiling,” Jed said. He smiled at her, such a sweet smile and she thought if she weren’t so tired, she’d be able to entertain the fantasy of having him right there, getting cake and frosting everywhere and then licking it all off. Cake Lady would be busy on a long phone call in her office—even in her fantasies, Mary liked to take care of all the details and she wasn’t into voyeurism. But that second transfer had been a full code on a three year old and she’d had two new 3rd year med students join her team yesterday and she really preferred savory anyway, unless it was very dark chocolate. 

So she just nodded back at him and admired the view—Christ! as he walked up to the marble counter to finalize the wedding cake with the coordinator. She was pretty good at bouncing back after a solid nap and he’d have finished his work by then. Their couch would be a more comfortable setting for a second tasting today and she thought she would like the flavors of the cakes better when they lingered on his lips, along his palate, mingled with the sounds he made when she climbed on his lap, her hands under his untucked oxford. In the house they rented on Curacao for the honeymoon, he’d have the bedroom filled with jasmine for her, and there would a small box of very dark chocolates, the centers chile, smoked paprika, ginger and salt.

**Author's Note:**

> Here is a delayed response to the "taste" prompt. It's always fun to take these two crazy kids out for a spin in the modern AU. Wayne Thiebaud is an American painter known for his Pop Art, intensely colorful works focusing on pastries, gumboil dispensers, lipsticks, etc. I thought Jed and Mary might like Curacao for a honeymoon because it's not a long flight, is somewhat exotic and has a slightly more interesting history (Dutch) vs. the rest of the Caribbean. Plus, it always makes me think of the drink which I associate with parties. I invented Red Pagoda :) "Royal Wedding" is a great Fred Astaire musical about Queen Elizabeth II's wedding-- it also features Jane Powell, Peter Lawford and Sarah Churchill, Winston's daughter. It is a lovely little film and features the classic, Fred-dances-on-the-ceiling number which is worth watching by anybody.


End file.
